


FIC:  Whining to Buddha

by Hippediva



Category: Once Upon a Time in Mexico (2003)
Genre: Blasphemy, F/M, M/M, Mayhem, Profanity, Sexual Violence, Snark, Typical Canon Violence, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:46:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hippediva/pseuds/Hippediva





	FIC:  Whining to Buddha

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Current mood:** |   
giggly  
---|---  
**Current music:** | Doink Doink  
  
_**FIC: Whining to Buddha**_  
DISCLAIMER: Rodriguez owns him, JD created him, I have no part in him alas.  
PAIRING: Sands and himself

A tribute to [](http://khohen1.livejournal.com/profile)[**khohen1**](http://khohen1.livejournal.com/) and her wonderful Seven Holy Virtues. In this case, I am using Buddhism's Five Precepts of Life.

**Precept One: Do not kill.**

But I'm so damned good at it.

Sands ground out his cigarette and picked up the check.

Are they fucking kidding?

He put the credit card back in his wallet, signed the check and smiled as the waiter picked it up.

Damned snotrag brat, you and your maitre d. Now what time do you close?

He was still smiling as he walked out the front door.

  
**Precept Two: Do not steal**

But everything just tastes better if it's stolen.

He pulled the scrap of paper out of his pocket. He was a tourist, ridiculous in baggy shorts, his tee-shirt sweat damp under the arms. The stains stopped just before the first letter emblazoned "Runs with scissors" across his chest.

He picked up the pay phone and began to dial, reading the numbers off the paper in polarised grey light. He continued to push the silver buttons, then hung up, grinning.

"Pay day!"

He wondered how long Mr. Rich American Tourist would wait until the card company called him to report the transfer of his stock management account to parts unknown.

  
**Precept Three: Do not indulge in sexual misconduct**

Is there an allowance for sexual conduct?

Her face strained and he closed his eyes. Should have put a bag over her head.

His hips bucked forward and she struggled again, her wrists small in his right hand. That felt good.

He brought the Beretta up slowly with his left, trailing it along her neck. She stopped struggling.

Doesn't everyone get off on guns?

  
**Precept Four: Do not make false speech**

  
But it's my only line!

"So the mark pulled away and you lost him?"

No he pulled away after paying me 250g's to let him. Don't worry, boss. There's the other half-mil coming.

"Yessir. I couldn't follow without blowing our cover."

A heavy sigh. "No, you were right. Is there any possibility you can trace him alone?"

"Absolutely, sir."

Do I lie?

  
**Precept Five: Do not take intoxicants**

And just exactly what constitutes an intoxicant?

His face was as still as a plaster mask but his head was a Roman candle, sending sparks straight to his dick. His breathing was slow, normal but he was Vesuvius in waiting.

High on life, baby.

Then the blood flowed in slow motion from a sweaty forehead and he sighed like a junkie reeling from a hit of China white.

[](http://smutcutter.livejournal.com/profile)[**smutcutter**](http://smutcutter.livejournal.com/) says I'm entirely evil. I will only admit to playing Wrath II compulsively. *G*


End file.
